


Attachments

by enigmairi



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Childhood Trauma, Friendship, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Character Death, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-10 10:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6980950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmairi/pseuds/enigmairi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A medical emergency brings up some bad memories for Alex and John. Fortunately, they have a strong support network to help them through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Content note: contains descriptions of vomiting and gratuitous character whump.

Alex scowled at his coffee. The milk had turned it an unattractive shade of gray, but done nothing to improve the sour taste or disguise the oily film floating on its surface. This was bad coffee. The worst coffee. _Burr_ coffee. Somehow, even using the same equipment and ingredients as everyone else in the office, Aaron Burr always seemed to deliver the kiss of death to what, in anyone else's hands, turned out as a reasonably pleasant caffeinated beverage. 

Not only did the coffee taste terrible, but today it was barely even helping to keep him alert. Had Burr secretly switched it for decaf in an attempt to sabotage him? No, that was ridiculous; in doing that Burr would be declaring war on all of the Washington Foundation's staff, and he would never risk such a bold move.

With only a mild air of melodrama, Alex dragged a hand down his face and reapplied himself to the case file on his desk. Landlord negligence: a rent controlled apartment building that was being allowed to crumble around its sitting tenants, who struggled with the damp, the ancient wiring, and the illnesses caused by the mold in the walls. Although the Foundation's mission was to provide representation across all areas of civil law to those who couldn't otherwise afford it, they saw cases like these with depressing regularity, and they had become Alex's specialty. He took particular satisfaction in analyzing the landlords' finances and systematically dismantling their claims that they couldn't afford to pay for the upkeep of their buildings. 

He sipped at the hideous Burr-coffee, but it was so acidic that it felt as if it was curdling in his stomach. He pushed it away across the desk and got to work. 

Some time later Alex was interrupted by a rap of knuckles against the wooden frame of his office doorway. Even though he kept the door propped open most of the time, Washington always observed the ritual of knocking. 

“Alexander? I believe it's time for our war council.”

Alex checked his watch. Shit, he was running late. “Sorry, sir. I'll be right there.”

The “war council” was Washington's name for the mid-week meeting that the Foundation's staff used to keep each other updated on cases and any other important activities. Washington himself led the meeting whenever he was available, and often had useful insights into their cases. He had been a senior partner in a prominent city law firm before deciding to focus on managing his family's charitable foundation, and directing its efforts towards _pro bono_ legal services. It turned out he was much more comfortable leading a guerrilla campaign against the injustices carried out in the name of business than he ever had been defending them. 

With an armload of papers and laptop, Alex pushed his way through the conference room door backwards and grabbed the last available at the seat around the table just as Washington called the meeting to order.

“Now that we're all here, we'll start with the actions from last week's meeting.” Washington scanned his notes. “Maria, would you like to report back on the outreach event in Bushwick...”

For once Alex was content to listen, letting the conversation wash over him while he leaned one elbow on the table to prop up his head. The stuffy warmth of the room was starting to affect his concentration, and it certainly wasn't helping the coffee sit any easier in his stomach. However, the heat didn't seem to be affecting anyone else: Burr, Washington and one of the paralegals were locked in an animated discussion on how a recent precedent might influence a child custody case that they were working on. Alex thought vaguely that he should have an opinion to offer on this – he usually had plenty to say in these meetings – but he couldn't quite pin down what it was. 

“Alexander? Are you with us?” 

Alex was startled to attention by Washington's words and a well-timed nudge from the advice worker sitting to his left. The movement shifted something inside of him and he swallowed against the sensation that he now recognized as urgent nausea rising to his throat. 

“I was just asking if you could give us a run down of your current case load.” He peered across the conference table. “Are you alright, son?”

Alex stood up abruptly, sending his chair spinning away towards a corner of the room on its castors. “Could I please be excused for a moment, sir?”

“Of course. Do you need –”

Alex didn't wait to hear the rest of the sentence, bolting from the room as soon as Washington gave his permission. In a wobbly approximation of a sprint he launched himself towards the men's room, claimed the cubicle furthest from the door, and locked it with a decisive _snick_ before his knees hit the tile and the faux pine scent of disinfectant provided the final Pavlovian trigger for his gag reflex.

If Burr's coffee had tasted bad going down, it was even worse on the way back up. Alex took a moment to mentally curse him again as retched and coughed, knuckles white in their grip on the toilet seat. When he was finished he tried to lean forward, resting his head on his arm, but the smell threatened to set him off again so he settled for slumping against the cubicle wall. The effort of vomiting had left him exhausted, but he couldn't let himself rest for too long; if he was gone for more than a few minutes people would get suspicious. It was time to get moving again. He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and used the cuffs of his shirt to dry the tear tracks on his cheeks, then slowly pulled himself to his feet. 

On the other side of the door he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror – ashen and sweating – before he noticed Washington leaning against the sink.

“You look like hell, Alexander.” 

“I'm fine.” Alex suppressed a wince at the rough sound of his voice and straightened his tie in an attempt to lend some credibility to this statement. 

“Really? You're barely standing upright.” Washington stepped away from the row of sinks, hands out as if to placate Alex while inching closer to his personal space. 

Alex leaned back against the frame of the cubicle door, taking deep breaths through his nose in an attempt to steady himself. “Too much coffee. I just need a minute.” 

“Uh-huh. I think you're going to need a little longer than that. I'd guess a couple of days at least.” 

“I'm okay, I can work.”

“I don't doubt that you can, son; I just don't think that you _should_.”

Washington reached out a large hand, palm first, towards Alex's forehead but the younger man ducked away, twisting out from under Washington's arm with an expression that blended panic and fury. 

“I'm not your son. You don't need to look after me like I was one of your stepkids,” he snarled.

Washington stepped back and raised both hands again, this time in a gesture of surrender. For a few moments the two men stared each other down, until Washington broke the stalemate. 

“Okay. Okay. Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to call you a cab, then I'm going to go back to the conference room and make sure everyone else is distracted. You're going to take a minute to wash your face and get yourself together, then you're going to collect your coat and bag from your office, get into the cab, and go home. You're going to stay home tomorrow – no arguments – and probably Friday too, just to be on the safe side.”

“But –”

“No arguments. You can either go home now, on your own and with your dignity more or less intact, or I will call John and have him collect you, and if he needs to use force to drag you out of the office then I will personally assist him.”

Alex looked down at his feet, not quite able to meet Washington's gaze. He wrapped his arms around his middle and seemed to fold in on himself, defeated. 

“Alright. I'll go.”

“Good. Just get some rest and don't worry about work. The world isn't going to end because you took a couple of sick days.”


	2. Chapter 2

_ New York, February 2001 _

_“Mamá? I don't feel so good.”_

_Alex pushed his bowl of cereal to one side and lowered his head on to his folded arms on top of the kitchen table._

_“What's the matter, mijo?”_

_“I feel like I'm gonna barf. I don't think I can go to school today.”_

_“Sit up for a moment and let me look at you.” Raquel crouched down to bring herself level with her son and scrutinized him for a moment before placing a hand against his forehead. “You don't have a fever. Are you sure you're telling me the truth?”_

_“Yeah, I feel sick and dizzy and just... weird.”_

_Raquel stroked Alex's arm soothingly. “Alex, I know I used to sometimes let you stay home on my days off, but you're getting too old for that now. Your education is too important; you need to be in school.”_

_“No, I really don't feel good.” Alex felt tears start to prick at his eyes._

_“Maybe you just need some fresh air. How about I walk with you to school? If you start feeling better on the way I'll buy you some breakfast and you can go to school. If you don't we'll come straight home again. What do you think? Will you try?”_

_“Okay, I'll try.”_

*

The sound of John's key in the lock woke Alex with a start, the sudden movement setting off the feeling that the couch was moving underneath him. He pulled the throw blanket tighter around his shoulders and tried to burrow deeper into the cushions.

In the entryway John rapped under his breath, head bobbing in time to the beat on his headphones as he kicked off his shoes and hung up his coat. His steps pattered back and forth as he danced across the wooden floor in his socks, before executing a slide towards the couch and almost landing on top of Alex. 

John flailed backwards in surprise, pulling out his ear-buds with one hand and pressing the other to his chest in a theatrical gesture.

“Jesus, Alex! You almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing home at a reasonable hour? Are you sick or something?” John paused for a moment and took in Alex's appearance: he was pale, disheveled, wearing a blanket over his work clothes, and sleeping at seven o'clock in the evening. “Oh shit. You're actually sick, aren't you?”

Alex looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “Hey. Nice to see you too.”

“Sorry, I'm acting like a complete asshole. Let me try this again.” John cleared his throat and shifted gears. “Alex honey, you don't look well. What's the matter?”

“I think I'm dying.” He paused for effect. “I'm literally going to die of embarrassment. And it will be a mercy because I don't know if I can ever show my face at work again.”

John sat down on the floor and brushed a stray lock of hair out of Alex's face. “I'm sure it's not as bad as you think. Why don't you tell me what happened?”

“I had to run out of the weekly staff meeting – actually run, in front of everybody – to throw up. Washington stopped the meeting to come after me, and I'm pretty sure he heard me losing my lunch, breakfast, and everything else I've eaten back to about 2011.” 

“Hey, at least you didn't throw up in the meeting, or on Washington.” Alex shuddered at the very idea. “What did he do?” 

“He banished me from the office. He sent me home in a cab and said not to come back until next week.” Alex tried to pull the throw over his head to hide his shame and misery, but John took hold of his wrist and guided it back down. 

“What would you have done if one of your colleagues was sick? I'm guessing it would have been pretty much that. And Washington's a grown man – the guy was in the army, this can't be the first time that he's heard somebody ralph. I'm sure you haven't offended his delicate sensibilities, or whatever it is you think you've done.”

“I'm letting him down. He'll think I can't do my job.”

“I promise you he doesn't think that. Everyone at the Foundation knows how good you are at what you do, and that's not going to change just because you're out of action for a couple of days.” He slid his hand up to cup Alex's cheek; Alex closed his eyes and nuzzled into his touch, finally allowing himself to accept some comfort. 

John frowned. “Have you taken anything for your fever yet? You're really warm.”

“Urgh, no. I don't think it would stay down.” 

“Have you at least had some water since you got in this afternoon?” Alex shook his head. “Okay, we're going to have to do something about that.”

Alex buried his face in the couch cushions and groaned. 

“You've got to try to stay hydrated, otherwise you're just going to feel worse.”

“But I'll just throw it up again...”

“If it's that bad you're going to throw up again anyway, and it'll hurt less if you've actually got something in your stomach. Trust me on this.” John rubbed slow circles on Alex's back and felt him gradually relax under his hand.

“Okay. Fine. I'll try.”

 

Barely an hour later Alex's prediction of further vomiting proved to be correct, and he was knelt in front of the toilet while his stomach forcefully rejected the water and crackers. John crouched behind him, one hand on Alex's back to steady him and the other holding his hair back from his face. 

Eventually, when there was nothing left to expel, he crumpled backwards into John's arms.

“Hey, I've got you. It's okay.”

Alex gasped for air and swallowed against the taste in his mouth, hands shaking as he tried to wipe sweat and tears from his face. 

“Take a deep breath. You're okay.” John trailed a hand up and down Alex's bicep soothingly. “Do you think it's something you ate, or is this going round your office at the moment?”

“I don't know. Does it make a difference?” Alex rubbed at both eyes with the heel of his hands. 

“Probably not. I think you just have to let it run its course either way.”

Alex let his limbs flop and dropped his head on to John's shoulder. “I hope this isn't contagious, because I really don't want to give it to you.”

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure I don't want it, but I won't hold it against you if you've infected me. It's not like you got sick on purpose.” John pressed a kiss to Alex's temple. “Are you ready to try moving yet?”

“Nnngh. I might need to puke again.”

“Right now?” Alex shook his head cautiously. “Then we might as well get you lying down on one of our apartment's cleaner, more comfortable surfaces in the meantime.”


	3. Chapter 3

“I'm sorry, baby. I wish I could stay home, but we've got the deposition this afternoon and Angelica might actually kill me if I don't show up.”

Morning found Alex huddled under his blanket on the couch, mostly upright but wrapped around a pillow in an attempt to take the strain off of his abused abdominal muscles. He'd given up on the bed around 4am and set up camp in the living room. Alex wasn't a settled sleeper at the best of times, but his feverish discomfort and repeated episodes of vomiting had been keeping John awake, and there was no need for both of them to be miserable and sleep-deprived. 

“For the wage discrimination case? No, it's important, you need to go in. It's not like there's anything you can do here anyway.”

“Yeah, but it's sucks that you have to be alone when you're sick.” John sat down on the couch and trailed his fingers through Alex's hair, scratching his scalp as he went. “And I'll worry about you; you don't seem to be doing any better than last night.”

“I just need to wait it out. I'll be fine in a day or so.”

“I hope you're right.”

“ _I_ hope I'm right.”

John's phone pinged with an incoming text message, and a look of relief passed across his face as he read it. “Herc says his photo shoot should be finished by early afternoon and he'll be round to check on you after that.” 

Alex gave a drawn-out whine. “I don't think I'm up to company today.” 

“It's not company, it's just Herc. He's got the spare key and he said he can let himself in if you don't feel like getting up.” 

“It really isn't necessary...”

“I'll spend all day worrying otherwise. Please? For me?” 

“Stop doing the big eyes thing.” Alex moaned and planted his face into John's shoulder. “Okay. Fine. Herc can come over.” 

John kissed the top of Alex's head and pulled him into a hug. “I know this isn't easy for you, but you're allowed to ask for help. Just keep your phone nearby, let me know how you're doing.”

Alex nodded into John's shoulder and was rewarded with another kiss to his hair. 

“I have to go now or else I'm going to be late. Look after yourself today. Feel better. I'll be home as soon as I can.”

 

_ New York, February 2001 _

_Alex let himself in and dropped his backpack by the front door._

_“Mamá?”_

_The apartment was strangely dark and quiet. Usually when his mother was at home she would have the radio turned up high, but today the only thing he could hear was the clanking of the ancient furnace in the basement directly below._

_Alex tiptoed through the apartment and tentatively put his head around the door to his mother's bedroom. Raquel lay in bed with her back to the door._

_“Mamá?”_

_She stirred and rolled over. “Alex. How was school?”_

_“Fine. Are you sick?”_

_“It's just a headache. How are you? Do you feel better than this morning?”_

_“Yeah, I'm okay.” He shuffled awkwardly in the doorway. “Uh, is there anything I can do to help? Do you want an aspirin or something?”_

_“I already took some, but a glass of water would be nice. Then you can tell me what you learned today.”_

*

Herc knocked the front door softly, not wanting to wake Alex if he was asleep, but at the same time reluctant to barge in if he was awake. He'd learned during their time as roommates that Alex could be touchy about his personal space, particularly when he was stressed or unwell. 

There was no answer, so Herc put the key into the lock and let himself in. 

The TV was on, providing a low-level background noise, but the blanked-covered lump on the couch that was presumably Alex showed no sign of having heard him come in. John had said the poor guy spent half the night with his head in the toilet, so he must be exhausted. Herc would just wake him up for long enough to make sure that he was coherent, maybe try to get some water and medication into him, then let him get back to the sleep he obviously needed. 

It was only when Herc rounded the couch that he started to suspect something might be wrong. Alex was curled up on his side, but instead of relaxed in sleep his entire posture was tense with pain, his face creased and dotted with sweat. Herc reached out tentatively and touched Alex's shoulder with his fingertips, hardly daring to do more than that in case it hurt him. 

“Alex? Alex, are you with me, man?”

Alex's eyes opened wide in confusion. “Herc?” He frowned for a moment as if searching for the relevant information. “Oh. Yeah, John said you were going to stop by. But if you're here, it means he's not home yet...” 

“Yeah, sorry, you're stuck with me for now. And I'm getting kind of worried - you really don't look well.”

“I just need to sleep it off. I'll be okay.” 

“No offense, but you don't look okay. Are you hurting?”

Alex nodded. 

“Where?”

“Side. It's okay, I just need a minute.”

“Your right?” Alex nodded again. “Yeah, no, we're going to the hospital.” 

“I –”

“Stop right there! You are not going to tell me you're fine. Alex, you're an intelligent guy, you know what pain in the right side usually means, yeah?”

“Usually. Not always.”

“So you want me to leave you here without medical treatment because there's a small chance that your appendix isn't going to explode? Fuck that.” Herc lowered his voice and leaned in close. “I know you're scared, but this is serious and you really need to see a doctor. Okay?”

Alex bit his lip and closed his eyes. He took a couple of deep breaths then paused before he whispered his answer. 

“Okay.”


	4. Chapter 4

_ New York, February 2001 _

_Alex rubbed at his eye with the heel of his hand. He still had homework to finish, but the headache that had been building for the last half hour was making it difficult to concentrate. The words seemed to slide around on the page and the effort of trying to keep them in the right order left him exhausted._

_Although he was normally an expert evader of bedtimes, right now there was nothing Alex wanted more than to lie down, even though it was still light outside. This didn't feel right; maybe he really was sick._

_There was only one thing he could do. Alex trailed through to his mother's room with a weariness that seemed too old for his twelve years, but a need for comfort that made him feel much younger._

_“Mamá?”_

_Raquel forced her eyes half open. “Oh, Alex. You too?” He nodded. “Come here.”_

_Alex folded himself into his mother's side and she put her arms around him, stroking his hair until he fell asleep._

_*_

_When Alex woke it was dark and it took him a few seconds to place where he was: his mother's bedroom. But why was he there? What time was it? Why had he been sleeping in his school clothes?_

_Before he could figure out the answers to any of these questions, he was struck by an urgent need to to be sick. He barely managed to get his head over the side of the bed before the first wave started, and by the time his stomach was empty he was crying and shaking with effort. Exhausted, he lowered his face to the mattress, feeling utterly alone. His mother was still asleep beside him, and he knew that she was sick too, but he needed her to wake up and tell him that it would be okay._

_Alex reached out a hand to shake her shoulder. No response. He tried with both hands. Still no response. He shouted, patted her face, tried to pull her upright, but Raquel lay there motionless._

_This was bad. This was really, really bad. He had to get help._

_It took an immense effort for Alex to get to his feet. The room whirled around him and his stomach lurched again, but he staggered away from the bed. The across the tiny apartment seemed to stretch out unbearably and the floor tilted under his feet, but finally he reached the door. He turned the key in the lock, grabbed the handle and pulled._

_The door wouldn't open._

_He tried again, rattling the handle, and the door shook in its frame. In a panic he pounded his fists against the door, screaming, but all this did was make more noise._

_Then suddenly his hand connected with something cold and metallic. The bolt! With trembling fingers he reached for the knob and slid it back, pulling the door towards him and letting the light spill in from the hallway._

_Alex managed two stumbling steps over the threshold before his legs folded underneath him._

*

John was not a morning person. Most of colleagues had learned this early on and remembered to give him some space first thing to allow his brain to get up to full speed. It was one of the unspoken rules of their open-plan office, like not eating strong-smelling food at your desk or asking other people before you adjusted the heating.

Angelica Schuyler had never been one for rules. 

“Hey John. Are you sure you've got enough coffee there? It's kind of cruel to flaunt that in front of a woman who's supposed to be limiting her caffeine intake.” Angelica rested a hand on the bump that had just recently started to show. 

John protectively clasped his bucket-sized takeout cup to his chest. “Leave me alone. I've had, like, three hours sleep and I'm starting to wish I'd got two of these.”

“John Laurens, were you out partying on a school night?” Angela leaned in conspiratorially. 

“No, nothing like that. It was Alex.”

“Okay, I love you, but I am way too sober to listen to stories about your sex life, and workplace drinking is frowned upon even when you're not pregnant.” 

“No, I mean Alex is sick – he got sent home from work early yesterday and spent half the night puking his guts up. I couldn't just leave him to go through that on his own.”

“Oh shit, I'm sorry. Is he doing better this morning?”

“Not really. Any other day I would have worked from home today to keep an eye on him, but you know...” John shrugged as he tailed off. 

“It sounds rough. You know, I could probably manage without you this afternoon if you need to drag him to a doctor or something.”

“I'm sure you'd be great, but this is the first case I've worked on with a colleague rather than a supervisor, and if I don't show up it'll look as if I couldn't handle the pressure. Anyway, Alex knows what's happening today and he insisted that I come in.”

“That's so typical of him.” Angelica paused for a moment. “Hey, do you know if what he has is contagious?”

“No idea, why?”

“I'm thinking that maybe you should give our guests a really good, firm handshake this afternoon. ”

“You know there are international laws against biological warfare, right?”

“I'm just saying you should share the love a little.” Angelica wiggled her fingers delicately and laughed as she returned to her own desk. 

With the combination of sleep deprivation and worry, John's morning seemed to drag on interminably. He tried to keep himself occupied with the files for their current wage discrimination case and his notes on the managers they would be questioning that afternoon, but kept one eye on his phone in case of any urgent messages from Alex. John figured that he would probably have to read between the lines to tell if he needed help, but the tone of their conversation seemed reassuringly normal, if a little subdued.

[John 10:14] Hey, how u feeling?

[Alex 10:17] I'm holding on to the hope that maybe, if I just lie very still, I may be able to hold on to the Gatorade I drank twenty minutes ago. 

[John 10:19] Aww hun, I'm sorry. Sending u <3 <3 <3

[Alex 10:20] I love you too. 

[Alex 11:46] My God, have you seen the trainwreck of daytime TV recently? I think this would make me want to vomit even if I wasn't sick. 

[John 11:47] We have Netflix for a reason

[Alex 12:36] Good luck this afternoon – not that you need it because I know you'll be amazing. Take a walk in your lunch break, stay calm, you'll be fine.

 

John locked his phone in his desk drawer before he left for the deposition, wanting to avoid any temptation to phone or text Alex during the breaks. Apart from the risk of distraction, he didn't want Alex to end up having to comfort him or listen while he over-analyzed his performance. 

But despite John's worry the deposition went well. Angelica was calm and self-assured as always, and his own performance was solid, even if it wasn't his most polished and there were a few places where he tripped over his words. They got all of the information they needed, as well as some unexpected new details that he was excited to follow up on. 

Angelica looked pleased too, and John knew that under her polite, dignified smile she was doing a victory dance in her head. It was only when they were on the stairs and no one else could see them that she allowed herself to grin widely.

She was still smiling when they got back to the office and John Jay popped his head over the desk divider. 

“Hey Laurens, next time you leave your phone in your desk, remember to put it on silent rather than vibrate. It's been driving me crazy.”

John lunged for his desk, fumbling the key in his rush to open the drawer. 

Angelica tried to head off his anxiety. “Alex probably just got bored waiting to find out how you did. You know what he's like.” 

His phone showed six missed calls from Herc, all time-stamped over the past hour and a half, and one voicemail. With shaking fingers, John entered the passcode. 

“Uh, hey John. Don't panic, but I went to check on Alex like you asked and, uh, now we're at the ER. They're running some tests to confirm it, but they think he has appendicitis. Bottom line is, he's going to be fine: I mean, he's probably going to need surgery, but he'll be fine. Anyway, call me back when you get this – or maybe not, since I can't use my phone in the ER. Just come and find us at the hospital. Um, we're at Columbia, I don't know if I said that. We'll see you soon, yeah?"

John's phone clattered against the desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a [tumblr](http://enigmairi.tumblr.com/) now.


	5. Chapter 5

_ Charleston, November 2004 _

_“I'm looking for John Laurens. Is he in this class?”_

_John looked up from his history textbook at the mention of his name. One of the school secretaries stood at the classroom door, looking round nervously. He raised his hand to indicate his presence._

_“Could he please be excused? He needs to come to the Vice Principal's office right away.”_

_The teacher nodded his assent but gave John a suspicious once-over. Some of the other kids started exchanging looks, wondering what the Congressman's son might have done to get himself into this much trouble._

_“Uh, should I...” John gestured awkwardly towards his belongings._

_The secretary blinked. “Yes, I think it would be a good idea to take your things with you.”_

_John hurriedly stuffed his books into his backpack, collected his blazer from the back of his chair, and nervously followed her out of the room. He hadn't been summoned to a disciplinary meeting since the previous term when he narrowly avoided getting into a fight with two older boys over a racist joke, but this time he couldn't think of any reason why he might be pulled out of class._

_He followed the secretary across the campus, finally arriving at the oldest part of the school, a two-story building in red brick with white pillars surrounding the front door, which housed the senior staff offices. John was ushered into a high-windowed office and given a seat in front of the antique desk._

_“Laurens, I have your father on the phone. He needs to speak with you.” The Vice Principal passed John the handset and withdrew to look out of the window, creating an illusion of privacy._

_This was really weird. John had a cell phone; if his father needed to speak to him he could have called that. He wouldn't have been able to answer in class, but that's what voicemail was for._

_“Dad?”_

_“Jack?”_

_“Dad, what's going on?”_

_There was silence on the line for a few seconds. “It's your mother. She's been in an accident and you, you need to get to the hospital. Your grandparents are driving in, and I'll be on the next flight out of DC, but somebody needs to be with your mother until then. Can you do that for me, son?”_

_“Yeah. Yes, of course. But dad, what happened?”_

_“I don't know; they said something about a car accident, but I don't have all of the details. They might be able to tell you more at the hospital.”_

_There was a knock at the door and the secretary stuck her head in. “John, there's a taxi here for you when you're ready.”_

_“What was that, son?”_

_“Uh, my ride just arrived.”_

_“I'd better let you go. I'll see you in a few hours.”_

_*_

 

“John? Are you alright?” Angelica gently put her hand on his as he fumbled after his phone

The ground pitched sickeningly under John's feet and the world shifted in and out of focus. 

“What's happening? What did Herc say?” 

“They're at the ER.” John tried to take a breath but his lungs wouldn't seem to cooperate. 

Angelica narrowed her eyes, taking in John's reaction and formulating a plan within the the space of a few seconds. “Come on, we're going to figure this out.” 

Shooting a warning look at Jay, Angelica took John by the hand and led him along a corridor to the firm's staff room. Late in the afternoon there was no one else there, so she pulled out a chair at one of the small, round dining tables and indicated to John that he should sit down. He slumped forward with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands, the tips of his fingers tangling in his hair. 

Angelica took the seat opposite. “Okay, take a deep breath and tell me what you know.”

“Alex is in the ER. It's probably appendicitis.”

“Okay.” Angela paused to absorb the information. “Well, that's going to suck in the short term, but he's going to be fine. He'll have the surgery, spend a day or so in hospital, and before you know it he'll be back home, driving you crazy because he's bored.”

“I know, but -”

“Nope. No “buts” or “what-ifs”. There's no need to go borrowing trouble.”

“Sorry, I know. I just really don't like hospitals.”

Angelica put her hand on his arm “Do you want me to come with you?”

John nodded. 

“I'm going to go talk to some people. It's nearly five o'clock anyway, but I want to let people know where we're going. I'll be back in a few minutes.”

John stared down at the grain in the table and tried to focus on his breathing, counting the seconds of each inhalation, making them them progressively deeper. 

When Angelica reappeared she had her coat and purse, and John's messenger bag slung over her shoulder. 

“Okay, we are good to go. Mercer says he hopes Alex feels better, that you're taking a personal day tomorrow, and you should call in on Monday if you need to work from home. Are you ready?”

They took the subway because, at that time of the day, a cab wouldn't have been any quicker. Throughout the short journey John stayed close to Angelica, silently requesting reassurance by brushing shoulders or making contact in other small ways that would have looked accidental to anyone watching. 

Outside the hospital Angelica hooked her arm through John's to walk him in, just in case he was harboring any last-minute thoughts about running away. “It's going to be fine. Alex needs you right now, but he's going to be okay.”

At the ER front desk they were told that Alex had been admitted, so they took the elevator upstairs to one of the inpatient wards, where Angelica repeated the process of sweet talking the receptionist, before ushering John along a corridor, counting the room numbers until they found – 

“Alex!”

He looked pale and exhausted, and although the head of the bed was raised he seemed to be asleep. However, at the sound of John's voice he rolled his head round on the pillow and opened his eyes.

“Heyyyy.”

“Oh honey, how are you doing?” John stepped towards the bed to gently stroke Alex's hair. 

“I'm awesome. Well, apart from the whole...” Alex rotated one finger in a lazy circle, indicating his surroundings, “thing.”

John looked questioningly at Herc, who was sat in a visitor's chair on the opposite side of the bed. 

“He's on a lot of painkillers.”

“They gave me the good drugs. The best drugs” Alex presented his left arm for inspection, helpfully pointing out the IV just below the elbow with his other hand. 

“Yeah, don't expect his conversation to be up to the usual standard.” 

“Okay, so is anyone going to tell us what's going on?” asked Angelica.

Alex headbutted John's hand gently until he resumed hair-stroking but didn't offer any further comments, so Herc continued the explanation. 

“Well, as you've probably guessed, his appendix is fucked and he needs surgery. But they can't fit him in until some time this evening.”

“So we just have to wait?” John seemed concerned about the delay. 

“The doctor said he's not in any immediate danger, and they're keeping him comfortable. In the meantime we get to sit here and listen to your boyfriend's stream of consciousness.” 

“So, not that different from a normal day?” suggested Angelica. Alex stuck his tongue out at her.

Herc huffed a laugh. “Hey Angie, why don't we give these guys a few minutes' privacy.” He indicated to the door with his head

“You mean you need a break?”

“You might think that, but I couldn't possibly comment. Come on, lets give them some space.” 

Herc led Angelica down the corridor to the waiting area.

“I know I can trust you to be honest about this: how's John doing?”

“Honestly? He's a wreck. He almost had a panic attack after listening to your voicemail, and he's been barely holding it together since.”

“Shit. Sorry, I didn't know what else to do.” Herc rubbed the back of his neck apologetically. 

“It's okay, I don't think he was going to take it well however he found out. How's Alex been?”

“It's kind of scary, actually. Normally getting him to see a doctor is like trying to give a cat a bath, he goes all fight-or-flight. In college he broke two bones in his hand punching a wall and he spent the best part of 24 hours holed up in his room saying that all he needed was an ice-pack. But this time he just kind of gave in – I mean, he was terrified, but it was like he didn't have the energy to do anything about it.”

“That really doesn't sound good.”

“Yeah, it makes me feel even worse about what I'm going to ask next. I'm supposed to be working tonight – taking photos of the guests at some fancy gala – and I can't afford to cancel it. It's been a slow month for fashion gigs, and if this goes well I could get more jobs off the back of it. Could you stay with them for a few hours?”

Angelica's hand strayed to her bump. “I wish I could say yes, but I don't know that I would be any use. I tend to crash out in the evenings, and I won't be much help if I'm napping in the corner.”

“Shit. What are we supposed to do?”

Angelica thought for a moment. “I think it's time we called for reinforcements.”


	6. Chapter 6

_ New York, February 2001 _

_Alex's memories of what happened next exist as a series of fragments._

_Watching the ceiling lights flick past as he moved along a corridor, flat on his back._

_Something covering his face, and having it firmly replaced every time he tried to take it off._

_Fighting against the hands that held his arm in place as they drew blood from his wrist._

_Being woken up and asked his name, what school he goes to, who the president is; given words to remember and repeat back. This may have happened more than once._

_The panicked expression on the young nurse's face when Alex asked for his mother. The reply that 'she's not here right now' ._

_It's only over the next few days that he manages to get a clear picture of what happened. The doctors tell him he has something called carbon monoxide poisoning, caused by the ancient furnace in the basement. He and his mother were the worst affected because of the location of their apartment. Other people in their building were sick too, but nobody realized it was serious until Alex was taken to hospital and they got a diagnosis. By collapsing in the hallway he probably saved his neighbors' lives._

_After two days Alex was well enough to go home, but this created a new problem as he didn't exactly have a home any more._

_Raquel had been in the apartment all day; she had been exposed for much longer than he was. By the time the ambulance arrived she had stopped breathing, and despite the paramedics' best efforts she was pronounced dead at the hospital._

_Alex survived, but alone in the hospital, waiting for an emergency foster placement, he wasn't sure whether he was actually grateful for this._

_*_

As the painkiller haze started to wear off, Alex became increasingly nervous and clingy. He was reluctant to break physical contact with John, who had pulled his chair as close to the bed as he could and probably would have climbed in if he thought he could get away with it. Touch seemed to be the only thing that comforted Alex, whether it was having his hand held or his hair stroked, and thankfully it seemed to help John stay calm as well. 

Angelica watched them from her seat in the second visitor's chair and worried. Not only was Alex obviously upset and unwell, but she had no idea how they were going to peel John off of him when it was time for the surgery, or how he would cope when he no longer had the reassurance of being able to see and touch Alex to remind himself that it was all going to be okay.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for the cavalry to arrive. 

“I see the Hamilton disaster field is still operational. Honestly, it's not safe to leave this one on his own.” 

Lafayette appeared in the door of the room, somehow managing to look effortlessly cool even with a reusable cotton grocery bag slung over one shoulder. 

He swooped in to distribute hugs, first – gently – to Alex. “How is the patient?” 

“Hey, man. I've been better.” 

Lafeyette laid a hand on his friend's arm and took a moment to assess his condition. “Oh poor Alex, you must feel awful. Mulligan is sorry for bringing you to the hospital with nothing but the clothes on your back, so we went to your apartment to pick up a few things. I hope you don't mind.” He presented the grocery bag shyly. 

“No, that's great. Really, thanks.”

Next Lafayette turned to John, pulling him into a standing position to receive a full-body embrace. John was reluctant at first as this meant letting go of Alex's hand, but once he was up he gave into it, burying his face into Lafayette's shoulder. 

“And you John, how are you holding up?”

“I'm okay. It's not like I'm the one in a hospital bed.”

Lafayette hugged him tighter for a second and clapped his back before letting go. 

“And Angelica.” He looked her up and down with a playful smile. “There is something different about you, I think. Did you change your hair?”

Angelica swatted him on the arm, but accepted his hug gratefully. “That's not even funny. How does Adrienne put up with you?”

Before Lafayette could answer they were interrupted by a petite woman in scrubs, with braided hair that was tied back from her face.

“Alexander Hamilton? I'm Dr Prevost. We'll be taking you down to surgery in a little while, so I'm here to go over a few things and answer any questions you might have.”

Angelica stood up. “I think that's my cue to leave. No offense, but I'm growing a human and I need my sleep.” She leaned in to kiss Alex on the cheek. “Feel better, sweetie. I'll see you soon, okay? And John? Don't worry about work, I don't want to see you back into the office until you've got everything under control at home.”

With that Angelica left, leaving John and Lafayette to watch while Dr Prevost checked Alex's pulse and blood pressure and ran through a checklist of questions about allergies. 

“Now we've got that out of the way, has anyone explained the procedure to you yet?” the doctor asked.

“Not really?”

She pulled out a pad of paper and started sketching diagrams. “It's laparoscopic surgery, so you'll have three small incisions: one in your navel, one near the crease where your leg meets your torso, and the third just above your right hip...” 

Alex struggled to follow the explanation of the different instruments, but he wasn't sure if it was nerves or some residual effect of the painkillers that was affecting his concentration. John turned pale at the first mention of the word “incision” and looked up nervously toward Lafayette.

“Okay,” said Dr Prevost, “Any questions?”

Alex blinked, trying to wrap his brain around the information. “Are you sure this is really necessary? I'm feeling a lot better now.”

“It's only natural to be nervous, but I would strongly advise you to have the surgery. The reason you feel better is because you've been given medication to treat your symptoms, but the underlying infection is only going to keep getting worse. This is something which you need to let us take care of sooner rather than later.”

Alex gripped John's hand a little tighter. John squeezed back. 

“Okay. Lets do this.” He detached himself from John to sign the consent forms which Dr Prevost handed to him. 

“You're making the right decision, Alex. I think it would be a good idea to get you started on your pre-anesthetic meds, they'll help you relax. Is that okay?”

Alex nodded and exhaled slowly as she left. 

John put his arms around Alex's shoulders to give him a very careful hug. 

“I'm proud of you. You're being so brave.”

Lafayette cleared his throat. “This is all going to be fine. Alex, the doctors will take good care of you and I'll look after John. It will all be over very quickly.” 

“I know, I know. It's just that knowing doesn't make it any easier.” 

There was a knock at the door and a nurse entered with a syringe which he injected into Alex's IV. “We'll be back shortly to take you down for your surgery. Just try to relax and it'll be over before you know it.” John wasn't entirely sure which of them the last part was directed at. 

Alex leaned his head back against his pillow and stared up at the ceiling, his gaze becoming increasingly unfocused. John kept his arms around Alex and tried to remind himself that it was all going to be okay; maybe if he repeated it enough times he would start to believe it. 

After a few minutes the nurse returned with an orderly. “They're ready for you now, Alex.” He turned to John and Lafayette. “There won't be room for everyone in the same elevator so I'm afraid you'll need to find your own way to the surgical waiting room. It's two floors down from here, but it's well signposted.”

“I'll see you on the other side, guys.” Alex waved a hand drunkenly

John caught the hand and kissed Alex's knuckles. “I'll see you soon, okay?”

Afterwards John worked out that he and Lafayette couldn't have been in the waiting room for more than an hour, but that hour seemed to warp and shift until it felt much longer. For the first few minutes the two men shuffled progressively closer to each other in their adjacent seats, until Lafayette gave in with an expressive huff and threw an arm around John, who leaned in to rest his head on Lafayette's shoulder. 

“John, you don't have to talk, but if you need to I will listen.”

“Thanks, but I think I just want some quiet, you know?”

So the two of them sat like that, trying to watch the people rather than the clock. Some of them looked as if they had settled in for a long wait: an older woman sat with her knitting abandoned in her lap, while a man with red-rimmed eyes cradled a sleeping toddler against his chest, chin on top of the child's head. Nurses came and went, collecting other patients' family members and leading them off to different rooms, but none of them seemed to have any news about Alex, until finally:

“Family for Hamilton?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fought me all the way and there are still some bits that I'm not entirely satisfied with, but the next one is going well so I decided to put this one out there. 
> 
> Anyway, I'm on [tumblr](http://enigmairi.tumblr.com/) now, so come say hi.


	7. Chapter 7

_ Charleston, November 2004 _

_“Uh, I'm looking for my mom. Eleanor Laurens. She was in an accident.”_

_John wasn't sure what he was supposed to do when he got to the ER, but decided that speaking to the receptionist would be a good start._

_The receptionist looked him up and down with a vaguely suspicious expression; he wasn't sure whether he was being judged for his age or his school uniform, but either way it made him uncomfortable._

_“Take a seat, someone will come out and talk to you.”_

_John glanced around the waiting room nervously. It was busy with the walking wounded: a man in overalls with a blood-stained towel wrapped around his hand, a middle-aged woman had her ankle propped up on the seat next to her, two college-age girls, one clutching a cardboard basin and trying to take deep breaths, while her friend offered moral support. The visceral nature of it put him on edge, so he chose the spot which seemed most isolated and sat down to wait._

_After fifteen or twenty minutes an Asian woman in a white coat appeared behind the receptionist, who indicated to John. He sat up straighter as she approached._

_“Hi. John Laurens?”_

_“Yes. Is my mom okay?”_

_“I'm Dr Shen. Why don't you come with me so we can talk.”_

_She led him back towards the treatment rooms of the ER, but instead of taking him directly to his mother, she stopped at some chairs in a quiet part of the hallway and indicated that they should sit down._

_“John, what do you know what happened to your mom?”_

_“Uh, my dad said she was in a car accident?”_

_“That's right. Now, I don't know any of the details about the accident, but I can talk to you about your mom's condition. Is that okay?”_

_John nodded._

_“Your mom arrived here with some very serious injuries. In the accident she suffered an impact to her chest, which caused internal bleeding – that means that the bleeding is on the inside, around her organs. We've done what we can to help her in the ER, but she's going to need surgery to try to repair the damage.”_

_“Will she be okay?”_

_“We're doing everything we can, but she's very sick and it's too early to know the outcome.”_

_“Can I see her? My dad doesn't want her to have to be alone.”_

_Dr Shen looked at him sympathetically. “You can, but your mom isn't awake at the moment. She also has some injuries to her face and there's a tube in her mouth that's helping her to breathe, so she looks a little different from what you're used to and that can be scary. If you still want to see her I can take you in, but it's okay if you don't want to. You don't have to go in.”_

_“No, I want to see her.” John's eyes started to sting and he blinked furiously, telling himself that he wasn't going to cry. Not here, not in front of the doctor; he was too old for that._

_“That's fine, we can do that. I'm going to come with you and I'll try to explain things, but if you have any questions you can ask, okay?”_

_“Okay.”_

_Dr Shen stood up, and she and John walked down the corridor to a room with a set of double doors with large glass panels. On the other side, several people in scrubs hovered over Eleanor's bed, while Dr Shen pointed out the ventilator, the blood transfusions, the heart monitor._

_“Do you still want to go in?”_

_John nodded and wiped his cheek with the back of his hand._

_*_

John fumbled for Lafayette's hand as they were led through to the recovery room; Lafayette gripped John's hand in return and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 

“The surgeon said everything went fine, no complications,” explained the nurse. “He might seem sleepy or a little disoriented, but that's normal after anesthesia. We'll keep him under observation here for a little while before moving him back to his room for the night, and if everything looks good tomorrow he should be able to go home.”

Lafayette squeezed John's hand again. “That's excellent news. Thank you.” He nudged John.

“Yes, thank you.”

The nurse showed them to a room of curtained-off bays, directing them to the one at the end of the row. Inside, Alex was propped up in the bed, staring ahead with an unfocused gaze, wires trailing out from under the neck of his hospital gown.

“Alex? You have some visitors.” The nurse announced their arrival.

“John?”

“I'm here, baby. How are you doing?” He let go of Lafayette and took a seat next to the bed so that he could take Alex's hand, holding it carefully so as not to dislodge the plastic clip on his index finger.

“Weird. Tired. Floaty. It's good that you're here.”

The nurse pointed to small device which had been left within easy reach on the bed. “Alex, you've got the call button there in case you need anything, and there's water on the table for when you're ready to try drinking something.”

Alex nodded then screwed his eyes shut and flailed at his face with an uncoordinated hand. “Dizzy.”

John looked round nervously for the nurse. 

“It's okay, that's normal; try looking at a fixed point. I'll just be out here if you need me.”

Alex pried his eyes open and looked over at John. “Mmm. You're pretty. You have so many freckles. I love your freckles.” He reached out with his free hand to touch John's face, coming dangerously close to poking him in the eye. “Like all the stars in the sky, but on your face.”

John tried very hard to be sincere, while Lafayette giggled on the other side of the bed. “Thank you, honey. You're, uh, very pretty too.”

“But you're the prettiest. And you're the best person. I love you so much.” Alex's eyes started to well up. 

“I love you too, Alex. Hey, it's okay, don't cry.” John cupped the side of Alex's face and brushed away a tear with his thumb. 

“John Laurens, you are the most amazing person I have ever met, with the most beautiful soul, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

John looked over at Lafayette in panic, not sure how to respond, while Alex cried and nuzzled John's hand with his increasingly teary face.

Lafayette stood in stunned silence for a few seconds, before deciding that distraction techniques were probably his best bet. “I believe the nurse left you with some instructions, Alex. Here, have some water.”

This seemed to work and Alex accepted the cup, tears quickly forgotten, while John and Lafayette exchanged significant looks over his head.

*

Later, when Alex was settled back into his room and had given in to the sleep of the exhausted and heavily medicated, Lafayette decided that it was time to take John in hand. 

“Come on, he will probably be out until the morning. We should go so that you can get some rest.”

“What? Oh, I was actually thinking I could stay here. You know, just in case he needs help during the night.”

“This is why the hospital is staffed 24-hours.”

“They're strangers...”

“They're highly trained professionals.” Lafayette sighed. “John, you are exhausted; you need a good night's sleep, in a real bed. Alex is coming home tomorrow – how will you look after him if you're dead on your feet?”

John stroked Alex's forehead, but he didn't so much as twitch in response. “I just want to know that he's okay.”

“He will be fine, the doctors are very pleased with his progress. Right now the best thing you can do is look after yourself. When was the last time you ate?”

“Uh, lunch?” John tried to avoid eye contact by focusing on adjusting Alex's blankets. 

“John! It's almost 11 o'clock. That settles it, we're leaving right now.” Lafayette grabbed John by the arm and started to pull him up out of his chair. “Time to go home, gather your things. I will not take no for an answer.”

“Okay, okay. Just a second.” John leaned forward to kiss Alex on the cheek, then reluctantly collected his messenger bag from under the chair. 

Lafayette handed him his suit jacket. “Good. Now, what do you want for dinner? I'm not leaving you alone until I've seen you eat something and walked you back to your apartment. This is non-negotiable – I don't know if I can trust you not to sneak back here.”


	8. Chapter 8

_ Charleston, November 2004 _

_Eleanor lived for another six days after the accident. She didn't regain consciousness._

_John and his relatives spent most of that time camped out in the ICU waiting room, and the days blur together in his memory as there is so little to distinguish them. But he was allowed to make a few short visits to her room, and he remembered each of those in minute and painful detail. The texture of the blanket under her hand, the squeak of rubber shoes on a linoleum floor, the disinfectant smell so strong he could taste it._

_He spent his time in the waiting room wishing that he could see her, but at her bedside he just wanted to be back in the waiting room._

_Eleanor survived two emergency surgeries, but it was an infection that ended her life. Combined with the severity of her injuries, her body was under too much stress to recover and her organs failed one by one._

_John drifted through the funeral like a sleepwalker, his lost expression captured by press photographers and printed the next day._

_He returned to school after Thanksgiving weekend, changed._

_*_

Alex poked listlessly at the contents of his hospital breakfast tray, trying to decide which of its constituent parts looked least offensive. This was just the latest in a series of insults that the morning had served up. First, he had been woken at 6am – 6am, seriously? the last he heard, rest was supposed to be good for sick people – by an obnoxiously cheerful nurse who needed to take his vitals. She had also checked his surgical site which, by the way, looked pretty gross with the bruising and stitches, although she declared it perfectly healthy. And then he had to make the heroic trek to the bathroom, which had left him exhausted and aching.

He felt like he had been kicked in the stomach and the small plastic cup of painkillers next to his breakfast was starting to look pretty tempting. However, he had been warned not to take them on an empty stomach, so that meant he had to eat at least some of the less-than-tempting breakfast. 

“So I heard a rumor that we had the world's most difficult patient in our hospital, and I thought I should come and see if I could lend a hand before the nurses started an armed rebellion.”

Alex looked up with his first smile of the morning. “Ned!”

“You know, most people call me Dr Stevens in here, but I suppose I can give you a pass.” Ned clasped hands with Alex in greeting and dropped a paper bag on the tray table. “I brought you some breakfast since I'm guessing you probably won't want any of that.” He nodded towards the tray of hospital-issue food.

Alex picked up the bag and looked inside. “Dry toast and a smoothie? Thanks, you shouldn't have,” he deadpanned. 

“I figured you probably wouldn't be that hungry. But hey, if you'd rather have hospital food –” Alex clutched the paper bag protectively. “Yeah, I thought you might say that.”

Alex took a few experimental bites of the toast and, on discovering that his digestive system seemed to be accepting deposits again, knocked back the painkiller and chased it with a sip of the smoothie.  
While Alex continued to work on his breakfast, Ned picked up his chart and raised an inquiring eyebrow; Alex nodded and Ned began to read. 

“The nurses aren't actually talking about me, are they? Because I have pretty much no memory of anything that happened between about seven o'clock last night and waking up this morning...”

“Nah, your friend Herc Mulligan texted me last night to give me a heads up. I would have come sooner but I'm on nights this week and I only just got off shift. How are you doing, anyway?”

Alex flopped back into his pillows like the heroine in a tragic novel and made some exaggerated crying noises.

“Yeah, you look like shit.”

“Fuck you, I'm in the hospital.”

“I know, you're sick. You still look like you could use a shower though.”

“Leave me alone. I just had surgery, I don't think I'm allowed to shower.”

“Then have a wash in the sink, brush your teeth and put some clothes on.” He gave Alex an appraising look. “Although if you really don't feel well enough to get up maybe I should talk to your doctor about whether you need to stay for another night.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn't.”

“Do you really want to find out?”

“Fine, I'll get up. Will that make you happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

“Are you this rude to all your patients?”

“You're not actually my patient; I'm here in a purely fraternal capacity.”

“And that means you're allowed to be a dick?”

“Exactly. Now go get cleaned up so that you look like the kind functional adult who can be allowed to go home and feel sorry for himself in his own bed.”

Alex muttered something about “assholes with medical degrees” but then realized that he had run out of stalling tactics and levered himself out of bed. Whether it was the benefit of practice or the painkillers starting to take effect, this time standing up felt a little easier, and his limping shuffle towards the bathroom seemed a little quicker. 

Ned hovered behind, claiming that somebody else needed to carry Alex's bag of supplies for him, but thankfully retreated back to the main room as soon as he had found somewhere to set it down. Alex closed the door after him and turned to survey himself in the mirror: Ned was right, he really did look like shit. As well as the pallor of illness and the dark circles under his eyes, he had two days worth of scruff growing on either side of his usually well-groomed goatee, and his hair looked as if something had tried to nest in it. 

He started small, brushing his teeth while he tried to figure out a plan of action. Feeling considerably more human after carrying out step one, this gave him the encouragement to fill the sink with warm water to wash his face, and to wet a washcloth to run over some of the body parts he suspected might have started to smell – which was basically everything he could reach. This meant that he had to slip out of the medical gown, and as he had no intention of putting it back on again, he pulled on the clean t-shirt Lafayette and Herc had packed for him. The underwear and sweatpants posed more of a logistical challenge since bending over was still uncomfortable, but he managed it by sitting down on the toilet and putting both over his feet at once to avoid the need for repetition. The final hurdle was doing something about his hair, but with no way of washing it all he could do was brush out the worst of the knots and tie it back. 

Alex looked in the mirror again. He now looked like he was desperately hungover, rather than like he had slept under a bridge. This was probably as good as it was going to get and the whole expedition had been surprisingly tiring, so he decided it was time to go back to the room and face Ned again. 

“Hey! Look who's up and out of bed on his own!” Herc stood in the doorway with John, and pushed his way forward to clap Alex on the arm. “It's good to see you looking better.”

“See, I told you having a wash would help,” interrupted Ned from the chair in the corner. Alex gave him the finger. 

“Hey Herc, thanks for yesterday. Seriously, I owe you, man.”

Alex took two cautious steps towards John, who hadn't moved from where he was standing in the doorway. As Alex approached, John pulled him into a fierce hug.

“Ow, ow. Stitches.”

John let go abruptly. “Shit, I'm sorry. I saw the empty bed and for a second I thought something had happened. Did I hurt you?”

Alex held his arm to his stomach protectively. “No, it's okay, I'm just feeling a little fragile.” 

John walked Alex back to the bed and helped him to get comfortable again, Alex graciously allowing himself to be fussed over. Just as they finished rearranging the pillows, Dr Prevost knocked on the door. 

“Good morning, Alex. Are you ready to talk about going home?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ned Stevens was the kid whose parents took Hamilton in after his cousin's suicide, and they were said to be so alike in looks and temperament that they were often mistaken for brothers (there's actually speculation that they may have had the same father) . The historical Ned trained as a doctor, and is known to have treated Alexander and Eliza Hamilton.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm sorry that it's taken me a little longer than usual to update (apparently I have a life outside of fanfic - who'd have thought it?). However, the final chapter kind of expanded itself to the part where it became two chapters, so this is now part 9 of 10 rather than 9 of 9.

John unlocked the door to their apartment and ushered Alex over the threshold. 

“Welcome home, baby.” With one hand on the small of Alex's back, John leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Oh, you look exhausted. You should sit down for a while”

Alex stared ahead dazedly. “I think I need to take a nap.”

“Okay, do you need anything?”

“Come with me?” 

“I'll be there in two minutes, I'm just going to put your things away.”

Alex looked at John with a wide-eyed, pleading expression.

“Fine, it can wait.”

Alex shuffled into the bedroom with John at his elbow and awkwardly lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed, where he rearranged his pillows against the headboard so that he could recline comfortably. John knelt in front of Alex to unlace his shoes, trying not to think of what had been said under the influence of the anesthetic, then helped him to settle in and tucked the covers around him. In case he was getting any ideas about wandering off, Alex took hold of John's hand to gently tugg him down on to the mattress, but John came willingly.

“Do you need anything? Water, another painkiller?”

Alex shook his head, his eyes already closed. 

John took a moment to empty his pockets and grab the book from his nightstand, then made himself comfortable next to Alex, his free hand kneading the muscles of his boyfriend's neck and shoulder as he drifted off to sleep. 

Absorbed in his book, John managed to stay put for the better part of an hour before he started to get distracted by the idea of lunch. It was after one o'clock, and although Alex was still asleep, he would need to be woken up for his next dose of painkillers soon – Ned had warned them that it would be best to stay ahead of the pain for the first few days – which meant he would have to be coaxed into eating something. This settled it for John: it was definitely lunch time. 

He gently disengaged from Alex and wandered through to the kitchen to survey the contents of the refrigerator. Although they hadn't picked up any groceries since the start of the week, neither of them had dipped into their supplies much over the last few days so there was still plenty of food. The crisper drawer was full of fresh vegetables which he should probably use up, but John decided to leave that for dinner, and instead grabbed the half loaf of bread and some sandwich fillings. 

John was halfway through assembling the sandwiches when Alex appeared in the kitchen doorway, wearing a throw blanket across his shoulders like a shawl. 

“You got up.” Alex barely finished his sentence before giving in to an enormous yawn, but there was still a hint of accusation in his voice. 

“Sorry, but we both need to eat. Why don't you go sit on the couch? I'll bring this out to you.”

Alex nodded, but leaned against the door frame and made no move to sit down until John had finished preparing their lunch and carried both of their plates out to the living room.

“I think when the doctor said I shouldn't lift anything, she was referring to things that are heavier than a plate of sandwiches.” Alex grumbled as he followed John to the couch and installed himself, back against one of the arms and his legs stretched out in front of him under the blanket. 

John settled himself on the couch with Alex's feet in his lap. “I know, but you would you just let me do this for you?” 

Alex rolled his eyes, but took a bite of his sandwich. John switched on the TV and paged through Netflix looking for something to watch.

“Buffy marathon?” he suggested.

“Sounds good.”

Alex managed to eat most of his lunch before he passed the plate back to John, who swapped it for a painkiller and a bottle of water. He slouched further down into the couch, where he made it through the better part of two episodes before falling asleep again. 

This time John stayed put for longer, contentedly watching several more episodes. The solidity of Alex's presence and his calm, regular breathing reassured him, helping him to feel more grounded than he had in days. He decided that it would be a shame to disturb Alex by getting up to make dinner; they'd order takeout instead. 

 

*

 

The next morning Alex sat curled on his side of the couch, blanket wrapped around his bare feet and his hoodie pulled up over his head. 

John, in full-on domestic mode, was attempting to simultaneously straighten up the living room and fuss over Alex. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“'m not hungry.”

“Come on, Alex. You know the deal: no food, no painkillers.”

“Fine. Cereal.”

Alex accepted his breakfast with bad grace and stabbed at it with his spoon, breaking up the crunchy pieces into the milk to form a lumpy mush before transferring any of it to his mouth. He pulled a face; he hated mushy cereal. 

John sat down on the other end of the couch with his own bowl of cereal and tried to sneak his feet under the blanket. Alex flinched. 

“Stop it – your feet are cold.”

“Yeah, that's why I'm putting them in the blanket.”

“Then get your own, this one's mine.” Alex shot a menacing look from under his hood – with the dark circles under his eyes and strands of unwashed hair falling around his face, it was pretty effective – and John withdrew his feet, tucking them under himself instead.

As they finished their breakfast, John decided to risk conversation again. “So I was thinking, maybe later we could take a walk? Just go round the block, pick up some things from the store.”

“I don't think that's such a good idea.”

“The doctor said that walking would help your recovery.”

“She also said “when you feel up to it”. I don't feel up to it today.”

“Maybe you should give the painkiller some time to take effect. You'll feel better.”

“It probably won't make any difference.”

“How do you know?”

“It's not the pain, I just... don't feel good.”

John studied Alex; he had his head propped up on one hand with his elbow resting on the arm of the couch and his overall posture was one of huddled misery. He reached out a hand to touch Alex's arm, but he shrugged it off. “Okay, what's wrong?”

“I just told you: I don't feel good.” Alex's voice rose in frustration at the end of the sentence. 

John made a show of withdrawing to his side of the couch, then just when Alex started to relax he lunged forward to yank off the hood and press the back of his hand to Alex's forehead. 

“Hey! I did not consent to that!” Alex yelped as he recoiled, then hastily leaned forward again as the movement pulled on his stitches.

“I'm sorry, but I needed to make sure you weren't trying to ignore a life-threatening infection. You know, like you did a couple days ago.”

Alex yanked the hood back over his head, but said nothing. 

“I'm sorry Alex, but you've been really sick and I'm worried about you.” John ran a hand through his hair. “I want to help you feel better, but I don't know what to do.”

Alex levered himself off the couch and started out across the room. “I'm going back to bed.”

“But you just got up...”

“Yeah, and as you just reminded me, I've been really sick. I feel gross, I look gross, and I want to lie down.”

John sat and watched as Alex stalked into the bedroom and pulled the door firmly closed behind him. His instincts told him not to follow; John wasn't sure if this counted as a fight as such, but he didn't want it to turn into one, and past experience suggested that they would both benefit from some time to cool off. The last few days had been stressful from his own point of view as a spectator, but Alex had experienced it first hand, complete with the mood-altering affects of pain, fever and a load of powerful drugs running through his system – he was probably overdue for a minor tantrum at this point. 

There was nothing John could do except leave him to it. Alex wanted space, and there was no danger in letting him sulk in another room for a few hours. Their apartment wasn't huge, but John could find some chores to keep himself occupied and out of the way until Alex was ready for company again. 

In the end it took nearly two hours for Alex to emerge from the bedroom, and when he did he was red-eyed, but using a gray beanie to cover his hair instead of lurking under the hood, which John decided to interpret as a sign of progress. Alex found him in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for soup, and cautiously sidled up to press his face into John's shoulder from behind.

“Feeling any better?” John asked without turning round; he felt Alex nod into his back. 

Alex looped his arms around John's waist and stood holding him for a few breaths before he spoke. “Sorry I'm kind of a basket case right now.”

“You're not a basket case, but you're forgiven anyway.”

The arms around John's waist squeezed tighter. He paused his chopping to place his right hand on Alex's left, thumb stroking back and forth across his wrist.

Alex rubbed his face into the edge of John's shoulder. “I've had enough of being sick. I'm just so tired.”

“Yeah? You want to go lie down on the couch for a while?”

Alex shook his head. “Want to stay here.” He held of for a minute or two longer before finally giving in and taking a seat at their small kitchen table, where he pillowed his head on his arms and settled in to watch John work. 

A few minutes later, when John had finished preparing his ingredients and set the soup to simmer, he turned around to find that Alex had fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on [the tumblr](http://enigmairi.tumblr.com/). Come and say hi, but be warned that I'm even more confused by this stuff that Old Man Lin.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look - this fic hasn't been abandoned after all! I'm sorry for making you wait so long for the final chapter, but over the past two weeks I’ve watched my country descend into political chaos, been ill, and had a death in the family, and none of this has been conducive to writing fanfiction - even the angsty kind. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has come with me on this 15,000-word journey of self-indulgence, especially those who have left comments and kudos - until you've written a multi-part fic you don't really appreciate how much encouragement this gives to a writer. 
> 
> Finally, if you're interested in other stuff that comes out of my brain, you can find me on tumblr [@enigmairi](http://enigmairi.tumblr.com/).

“I'm here to stage an intervention. Where's Alex? I'm taking him out for coffee.”

“Hey Angelica, nice to see you too. Welcome to our home.” John deadpanned as she brushed past him in the doorway and headed for the apartment's living room. 

The room was immaculately tidy; the surfaces had been cleared of clutter and dusted, and the curtains had been opened to let natural light spill across the desk that John was using to temporarily work from home. A large 'get well soon' card was displayed on top of the bookcase, with a matching helium balloon floating alongside it. The only exception to this scene of domestic order was the couch, which was strewn with bedding and pillows, and surrounded by discarded books and water glasses. In the middle of this chaos sat Alex, still wearing a pair of checked sleep pants and a faded t-shirt even though it was almost three in the afternoon. He faced away from the door with his attention focused on the TV, which he was listening to via a pair of wireless headphones. He showed no sign of noticing Angelica's approach until she dropped a hand on his shoulder. 

“Ow! The fuck? What are you doing here?” Alex twisted round, pulling the headphones off. 

Angelica lifted her hand from Alex's shoulder to cuff him round the side of the head. “Is that any way to speak to the woman who's taking you out for coffee?” 

“Who said I wanted to go for coffee?”

“You always want to go for coffee. Now go put on some real clothes because I'm not taking you out in public dressed like that.”

Alex hunkered down into his nest of blankets and hugged a cushion to his chest. “Yeah, I appreciate the thought and everything, but I don't think I'm up to it yet.”

“Alex, you had minimally invasive surgery five days ago. If you still can't drag your ass off the couch then maybe I should be taking you to a doctor instead of a coffee shop.”

“That's kind of extreme,” said Alex, sitting up a little straighter. “Can't we just split the difference and have coffee here?”

“You know, you are supposed to be taking walks – and it's such a nice day...” Suggested John as he came to perch on the arm of the couch. 

“Hey, two against one isn't fair! Especially when the “one” is sick.”

John looked at his partner with an expression of wide-eyed sincerity. “Honey, maybe this is what you need right now. You might feel better if you get some fresh air.” 

“Seriously Alex, you should listen to him, otherwise I might be forced to play dirty,” Angelica interjected 

“I'm not scared of you.”

“No? Did you know I still have screenshots of the livejournal account you had in high school? I also have Thomas Jefferson's personal e-mail address.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn't dare.”

“Do you really want to try me on this?” 

For a few tense seconds Angelica and Alex locked eyes, each attempting to stare out the other. Alex blinked first. 

“I think that settles it,” said Angelica, smiling with artificial sweetness. “Now, time to get dressed.” 

Pausing only to shoot them an outraged look, Alex stalked off to the bedroom in search of clothing that he wouldn't be embarrassed to wear outside. John scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed wearily. 

“How come out of the two of us, you're the one who's the Alex Whisperer?” 

“I think it's because we both know I'm never going to sleep with him; none of his usual tactics work on me.”

John shook his head. “I've been trying to talk him into going outside since the weekend – I mean, I thought it was going to get easier after he was allowed to shower again, but I couldn't talk him into going further than the hallway.”

“Yeah, I've been talking to Lafayette.”

“Did Laf tell you that he had to come over and sit with him so that I could get out of the apartment for a while? He really doesn't want to be alone right now. I mean, I get why this whole thing is upsetting him, but the last couple of days haven't been easy.”

“Yeah, I heard about that. He also mentioned some other stuff – about what Alex said at the hospital after his surgery.”

John's eyes widened. “Shit. He swore he would keep that to himself.”

“Oh, he didn't give it up easy. But you know what Laf's like with secrets, he gets all squirelly and it's obvious that he's hiding something, even if he won't say what it is. Adrienne had to call me in to help prise the information out of him.”

“Look, it probably doesn't mean anything. He was on a lot of medication, it makes people say stuff.”

“Of course. The only reason your boyfriend would want to spend the rest of his life with you because he was high.” Angelica's smile and expansive hand gesture softened her sarcasm, but there was still an edge to it. “When were you planning to talk to him about this?”

John looked at the floor and shrugged.

“You need to talk to him. Promise me you're not going to ignore this, okay?”

“Okay.”

Their conversation trailed off just as Alex emerged from the bedroom having thrown on a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a hoodie. He glared at Angelica suspiciously. 

“What are you even doing here in the middle of the day? Don't you have a job to go to?”

“I had a doctors appointment this afternoon and I'm supposed to be working from home for the rest of the day. The longer you stall, the more time I need to make up later, so let's get moving.”

“I'm so grateful you could fit me into your busy schedule,” Alex said sarcastically.

“Hey, I never said I was doing this for your benefit. I'm actually here to get you out from under John's feet so that he can get some work done and I don't have to pick up his slack.”

Alex pulled a face and headed for the front door, this time noticeably favoring his right leg. John suspected he was putting it on because he had been walking normally when he came out of the bedroom. 

“Fine,” said Alex. “Let's get this over with.”

Angelica raised an eyebrow at John, but decided not to give Alex the satisfaction of a response and instead quietly followed him out of the apartment.

“Is the place on the corner okay?” Angelica asked innocently as they waited for the elevator. “If it's terrible we could always go somewhere else.”

“The place on the corner is fine,” Alex replied sullenly while staring at the elevator doors. 

They made the short trip to the coffee shop in silence; Alex seemed determined to walk half a step in front of Angelica which discouraged conversation, but she noticed that he was starting to run out of steam as they approached their destination. In the middle of a weekday afternoon, the coffee shop was predictably quiet – the only other customers were two women with babies asleep in their strollers, and a younger, bearded man who was typing on a laptop – but Alex looked relieved to be shooed off to find a seat while Angelica placed their order. 

She returned to the table with two mugs, and for a few minutes they sipped their drinks in tense silence. Alex fidgeted nervously with a wooden stirrer until he couldn't repress the urge any longer, and he cleared his throat to speak.

“So what are we doing here?” 

“We're drinking coffee, Alexander.”

“Yeah, but you showed up without calling – who even does that any more? Even I know that's bad manners. ”

“If I had called ahead you would have pretended to be asleep, like you did when Washington visited yesterday. Or just flat out told me not to come, like you did with Eliza on Sunday.”

“So you're pissed because I offended your little sister?”

“No, I just didn't want to give you a chance to do the same thing to me.”

“Yeah, well, you've got my attention now. So what did you want?” Alex folded his arms and sat back in his chair.

“I want to know what's going on with you.”

“I don't know if you noticed, but I've had kind of a rough week.”

“And you don't seem to be handling it very well. You've shut yourself off, you freak out when John tries to leave the apartment, but you'll hardly speak to anyone else...”

“Last time I checked I was still allowed to decide who I spend time with.”

“All I'm saying is that I'm worried about you. Look, you don't have to talk to me, but I think you need to talk to someone.” Angelica paused to take a sip of coffee. “Are you still seeing that therapist?” 

Alex looked down at the table but said nothing. 

“Alex?” 

“It didn't fit with my work schedule,” he mumbled. 

Angelica sighed. “Nothing fits with your work schedule because you literally never stop working. You need to make time for this stuff; you need to work at it.”

“That's easy for you to say.”

“Believe me, nothing about this is easy. Do you think the place I went in the year I took out of college was a vacation resort for skinny girls? Getting better was hard work, but it was worth it.”

“You had time; parents who could afford to send you to a private clinic – I'm not exactly in the same position.”

“No, but we're talking about an hour a week of therapy, not months of inpatient treatment. I know you aren't making the kind of salary you could get at a downtown firm, but you do okay, right?”

Alex nodded but he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and couldn't seem to look Angelica in the eye. 

“Okay, lets put the question of therapy to one side for now. You can't hole in your apartment for ever – what happens when it's time for you to go back to work? Or when John needs to go somewhere?”

“We'll figure it out when the time comes.”

“Like you figured it out this weekend by getting Lafayette to come over so that John could have a break?” Alex's head jerked up in surprise.“That's hardly viable as a long-term solution.”

“I'll deal with it when I feel better.”

“Do you mean physically or mentally? Because it won't be long before you're cleared to go back to work, and you'll need to be ready for it.” 

“So – what? I wave a magic self-help wand and make myself less crazy?” 

“No, you take little steps. Like coming out here with me, or being on your own in the apartment for an hour or two. You don't need to get there overnight, but you won't get there at all if you don't start trying.”

Alex picked up his coffee mug, looking for something to do with his hands. 

“If not for yourself, do it for me. Until your John comes back to work, I'm stuck in the office with nobody to talk to except John Jay. 

Alex snorted a laugh and tried to cover it by raising the mug to his lips. 

“Oh, you think that's funny? Well, at least you're smiling, so I suppose that counts as a win.” Alex looked up at Angelica with a glint in his eye, while she took a sip of her now cold drink and pulled a face. “Are you done with your coffee?”

Alex swirled the dregs round in the bottom of his mug. “I guess so. Do you need to get back to work?”

“Eventually, but I can take my time. Do you want me to walk you back to your building?”

“That would be nice.” He stood up from the chair to offer her his arm, then paused with it in mid-air. “Or should I be taking your arm, since you're the one walking me home? I'm not sure of the etiquette here.”

“We could take each other's arms – no chivalry required.” Angelica stood up to link arms with him, then steered the steered the two of them out of the door and on to the sidewalk.

As they approached Alex's building, Angelica spoke again. “Are you planning to talk to John about our conversation?”

“Why? Do you think I shouldn't?”

“No, the opposite; I think the two of you have a lot to talk about.”

“That sounds kind of ominous. Is there something you're not telling me?”

“No, I just think that you need to trust him to help you figure this all out – which means you need to talk to him about what's going on.”

“Uh huh.” Alex seemed skeptical.

“I mean, it's not like he doesn't have his own baggage. You've helped him in the past, but that doesn't mean you always have to the strong one.”

Alex drew to a halt at the front door of the building. “I think this is my stop.”

“I think you're trying to change the subject. Look, if there's one thing you take from this, remember that it's okay to ask other people for help.”

“Okay.”

“Is that okay as in 'okay, I'll do it' or are you just humoring me?”

“It's 'okay I'll try'. Will that do?”

“It's a start – and believe me when I say I'm going to follow up on this.”

“With you, I wouldn't expect anything less.” 

Angelica leaned in to give Alex a goodbye kiss on the cheek. “Now quit stalling and go and talk to your guy. You're not going to scare him off – I get the feeling you're both in this for the long haul.”


End file.
